Hazelnut Soup
by caramelapples
Summary: Rapunzel had never tasted it before but it was delicious on her tongue; light and delightful. Mother said that it was hazelnut soup. She loved it – this hazelnut soup – and knew she would love it everyday of her life like she loved Mother.


**Author's notes:** This came about because I wanted to explore the fascinating relationship between Mother Gothel and Rapunzel before the events taking place in the film. I had fun writing this and I hope you'll enjoy reading it as well! Reviews are greatly appreciated. :)

_**Hazelnut Soup**_

Rapunzel reached out and tried to catch the colourful winged creature which had just fluttered in the window. Her small hand formed a tiny fist and she missed the butterfly slightly, catching nothing but thin air. The sun was warm today, its golden rays shining through the only window (literally) to life outside her tower and rested comfortably against her skin.

Today was Rapunzel's sixth birthday and Mother had promised to bring her something special when she came home. She waited patiently and was as good as she had told Mother she would be; she didn't climb anything today and even made her own bed although Mother would never ask her to do so because moving around with her long hair was quite difficult for her height when Mother didn't have time to pleat it for her.

That night, Mother made a different type of soup for the first time. Rapunzel had never tasted it before but it was delicious on her tongue; light and delightful. Mother said that it was hazelnut soup. She loved it – this hazelnut soup – and knew she would love it everyday of her life like she loved Mother.

Mother even brought home some special paper in her basket – the thicker kind which didn't soften that much when Rapunzel made her paintings. She had been trying to paint Mother once but the paper was too thin and the paint smudged when the water blotted too much. Mother had said it was all right, that the painting was beautiful anyway even though what was supposed to be Mother's pretty black curls had become nothing more than a large black smear. Rapunzel was glad that Mother had remembered (but then again, Mother never forgot anything) and had brought the special paper.

"I've got something else for you, my precious flower," Mother said, and disappeared into her bedroom for a short while.

Rapunzel waited excitedly and finished the last drop of hazelnut soup from the bowl in front of her.

Mother reappeared and placed three bottles of colour on the table; one was the most beautiful shade of green she had ever seen, one was strikingly blue and another was a bright, sunny yellow. Mother watched Rapunzel slip off her chair, going up to touch the bottles with her small fingers, feeling the cool glass jar.

"The green is like the colour of your eyes, don't you think?" Rapunzel beamed as Mother pulled her onto her lap.

"It's very pretty, Mother," Rapunzel said and leaned back into Mother's embrace.

"Happy Birthday, Rapunzel," she whispered and kissed the top of Rapunzel's golden hair.

"Let's go to the window," Rapunzel urged, knowing that the pretty lights in the sky will be there tonight. They were there for her last birthday.

"Oh, darling..."

"Don't you like the lights, Mother? Please?" Rapunzel begged.

"They're stars, Rapunzel," Mother said. But Rapunzel wouldn't relent and Mother finally sighed.

Stars didn't move all around, did they? The lights flicked and floated, dancing in the dark sky like little flames on candles. But Mother insisted that they were stars and said that the stars knew it was Rapunzel's birthday and danced especially for her.

Rapunzel fell asleep watching the beautiful lights in the sky that night as Mother brushed her hair and sang to her in the soothingly melodious voice she possessed.

* * *

Rapunzel liked it when Mother brushed her hair – hair which Mother said could not be cut because it was magic. And because her hair was magic, it was precious and had to be saved. Rapunzel didn't mind the tower all that much; she was sure that it was much safer than it would ever be outside with bad people who would harm her and take her hair. Something always told her there was something outside waiting for her but she could not tell what and she usually forgot the feeling whenever Mother was around anyway.

Once, Mother brought back a beautiful hairbrush from the market which she traded for with medicine she made from the herbs she found in the forest. Mother was good at things like that; making medicines. It was why Rapunzel never had to leave the tower to see a physician or anything of that sort when she fell ill.

It was the most beautiful brush she had ever seen, with floral patterns in hardened porcelain around the glass. They were intricate patterns, unpainted and white as the clouds Rapunzel could see out her window on some days. Mother had a knack of knowing what Rapunzel would like and she knew Rapunzel would just love to paint those flowers herself in the colours she loved – especially purple.

There was also once where Mother came home upset, angry at something Rapunzel had no knowledge about. It must have been something which had happened at the market. If she tried hard enough, she could almost see imaginary steam rising from Mother's dark hair. Rapunzel tried to calm Mother down but she would hear none of what Rapunzel was saying, choosing instead to slam things and break plates. Rapunzel steered clear of her way, hiding in her bedroom until the sound of smashing glass had wavered down to complete silence.

Only then, did she dare creep out of her bedroom and slowly went downstairs where she saw Mother sitting on her chair, resting her head on her hand.

"Mother?" Rapunzel tried and received no reply.

She approached silently and when she touched Mother's arm, she breathed a sigh of relief that Mother had not winced. Moments passed by and finally, Mother opened her closed eyes and looked at Rapunzel's own green ones.

"Mother?"

"Yes, flower?"

"Come." Rapunzel slid her small hand into Mother's larger one and tugged. If she could just show Mother what she finished today, perhaps Mother wouldn't be that upset.

"Please darling, I'm really not -"

But Rapunzel was determined. "Come," she said again, stubbornly and tugged harder. She smiled a little some of victory when Mother stood up.

She led Mother up the stairs and to her bedroom. "Wait," Rapunzel commanded as they stepped through the door and ran towards the heavy tapestries on the wall. With slight effort, she pulled the heavy red cloth aside and held her breath as she waited for Mother's reaction.

"Oh," Mother said, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Do you like it?" Rapunzel asked.

She had spent days painting, hiding the work in progress from Mother whenever she came into the bedroom. It was a mural of Rapunzel herself holding Mother's hand; its colours as vivid as real life could offer. Each detail was painstakingly recreated on the wall with paint.

"Oh, Rapunzel," Mother said, and Rapunzel knew Mother liked it. She opened her arms and Rapunzel flew into her embrace, pressing her cheek against mother's bodice.

"Are you still upset?" she asked, peering up at the taller woman.

"Not anymore, flower. Not anymore." She kissed the top of Rapunzel's hair like she did so often and it never failed to bring the warm feeling to Rapunzel's chest. "I love you so much, so very much."

"I love you more," Rapunzel said, because it was true.

Mother stroked her hair affectionately and said; "I love you most."

* * *

Rapunzel had been trying to reach for a book on the top shelf when she slipped from the stool and landed on the hard floor, twisting her ankle and scrapping the skin on her elbows. Mother had said that her slight built was a lucky thing for she would have been more seriously injured if she had been larger or heavier. She was glad that Mother had been home when she fell though, because she could not get up by herself. Mother had flown down the stairs (or so it seemed) at Rapunzel's panicked shriek but was calmed by the fact that Rapunzel's injuries looked to be only external.

She touched Rapunzel's foot and applied slight pressure on the ankle. Rapunzel whimpered.

"Hush, darling, I just want to see if it's broken," Mother explained.

The pain in her ankle was less severe after a while – at least, less severe compared to the pain of her scraped elbows. It took Mother a rather long time to clean the wounds because Rapunzel winced and shrank away countless times.

She could not get out of bed, not because she couldn't walk – she could still move about, by method of hopping. But Mother refused to let her out of bed and insisted that Rapunzel was not well enough to have dinner at the table despite the fact that Rapunzel was already old enough fully capable of walking with a twisted ankle. It meant that she had to have dinner in bed instead and she didn't look forward to it because she loved dinner time with Mother where Mother told her stories about the people she met during the day and amused her with new things she brought home from the market.

Just as Rapunzel sulked about missing her nightly routine, Mother entered the bedroom with a tray and Rapunzel immediately sat up – smelling the aroma of her favourite; hazelnut soup. Everything didn't feel so bad after all. Mother had dinner with her in her bedroom and even allowed Rapunzel to ramble on about whatever she wished and didn't correct her mumbling at all.

* * *

It had been a foolish question, Rapunzel thought, right after she had asked it. It was, it was, it was.

"You look like your father," Mother had replied and didn't seem inclined to say more on the subject.

Rapunzel had never asked much about her father for she had learned her lesson after the very first time she had asked. She had been very young then and had asked Mother where was her father after reading in a book about a little boy who had no father or mother. She had a mother, but where was her father? Mother had said he was dead and did not wish to talk about it anymore. Rapunzel, not wanting to upset Mother, never asked again.

Now, she had brought it up again at dinner, accidentally, of course.

She had just been voicing out a curiosity out loud - she did not look like Mother at all. But now that she had asked, it seemed like a bad idea for Mother was quiet and did not talk much. She did not even seem to notice (or care) when Rapunzel complimented the hazelnut soup she had made today. There was no devilish; "Yes, I know it's good, darling," as Rapunzel had hoped Mother would give her.

It made Rapunzel feel awful and desperately foolish for having mentioned it in the first place. What did it matter if she did not look one bit like Mother? She didn't care, she still loved Mother with every part of her soul. She could not bear the thought that she might have brought up something painful for Mother. What else could it be? Why else would Mother refuse to talk about her father if it had not been something devastating? The feeling overwhelmed her and followed her all the way until she prepared to go to bed.

Even in bed, as she attempted to close her eyes and go to sleep, she couldn't get rid of the awful feeling. After a while, she realised that her pillow was wet.

The door creaked upon and Rapunzel immediately brushed the tears away from her face.

Mother's silhouette against the light from the doorway came closer and finally stopped beside the bed where she sat down carefully.

"Are you asleep, darling?" Mother's rich voice whispered.

At that, Rapunzel sat up, pushing the covers off in an instant and flung her arms around Mother's neck. "I'm sorry!" she sobbed, unable to hold in her guilt anymore.

"Oh, flower, what are you talking about? What _is_ this?"

"I love y-you and I'm sorry for bringing up Father – I know how m-much you don't like talking about him. I'm so sorry!"

Mother stroked her back comfortingly. "Now, now, there's nothing to be sorry about."

"But aren't you angry with me?" Rapunzel asked.

"Darling, you're being ridiculous! Please stop crying and no, I'm not angry at you. Why should I be? You didn't do anything wrong."

"But you don't like talking about Father and I -"

Mother shook her head and smiled. "It doesn't matter. We've got each other and I love you very much."

"I love you much, much, much _more_!" Rapunzel declared.

"Ah, but I love you most," Mother said and kissed her forehead.

"The hazelnut soup was really good tonight, Mother."

The twinkle in Mother's eye told Rapunzel everything was all right and she beamed like sunshine at what she knew Mother would say next.

"I know it was, flower. _I_ made it, after all."

_fin_

**Author's notes:** That's all folks. I hope you enjoyed. Reviews are greatly appreciated. :)_  
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